


And the Home of the Brave

by miinyuu



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Patriotism, dumb fic, who even knows anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miinyuu/pseuds/miinyuu
Summary: “You’re supposed to salute the flag, aren’t you? What kind of soldier are you going to be with no respect for the flag?”





	And the Home of the Brave

**Author's Note:**

> The only way to describe this is to say that the idea came out of a 5AM talk with a friend while both of us were delirious from lack of sleep. This wasn't meant to be a fic but, lo and behold, here it is. 
> 
> I'm sorry.

“Another day, another shitty date.“ Bucky half-slams the door behind him, hanging up his coat just inside the entrance of the apartment he shares with his best friend Steve, who just happens to be sitting across the room on the couch, drawing by light of the lamp. The smaller boy looks up only after frowning at his paper and erasing an accidental line (right across the middle of his work) he made when the door first opening had scared him, finally meeting Bucky’s gaze. 

“Didja at least kiss her?” he asks, eyebrows raised in interest. 

“Nah… we just didn’t hit it off. She wasn’t my style.” Bucky shrugs, slipping his shoes off and walking over to the couch to sit beside Steve. He can already see Steve’s lips curling into a smile that holds back a laugh. He knows better but leaves it without saying. So instead he leave Bucky to ask, “How was your day, Rogers?” 

“Alright. Went in for another physical, same place as last time… they said I’ve gained weight and I’m pretty sure it’s muscle too! But my heart is in worse shape because of it, so I’m not sure where that leaves me exactly…” 

“You’ll get it. A little punk like you ain’t givin’ up ’til you’re on the front lines.” Bucky can’t help but grin a little at Steve’s expression. Despite how sad it is to see his best friend still struggling to become a part of the army he entered only because of a stupid piece of paper that told him he had to, he has to admit, the little pout Steve gives at times like this can be a bit endearing. 

Enough for a particularly-vulnerable Bucky that still has ‘sorry but… can we just be friends?’ ringing in his mind to lean over and plant a kiss on Steve’s lips. 

It’s not as sudden as it may seem. The two of them have done this before. One of the perks of living with your best friend you maybe-kinda-sorta have a mutual thing for, is that you can get away with whatever you want and no one has to know. And it’s a good counterpoint to the drawbacks of being queer (and in the military, no less) in the 1940s. But as long as it remained behind closed doors, it was alright. 

Neither of the two ever talked about their sexualities, not even with each other, this wasn’t a thing people talked quite so much about at the time. They can hardly remember how these ‘things’ that happened behind closed doors began, maybe a drunken night a good while back? If they weren’t properly drunk at the time, they at the very least used it as an excuse with each other. It was hard to say now; there were much more important things on their plates with the world in full turmoil and Bucky shipping out to go fight, without Steve, in just a few weeks. 

Because still, life goes on, and the two of them continue to try to find a girlfriend to maybe settle down with one day. It’s not necessarily going well for either of them, but they try. The two of them properly being together as a couple never crossed their minds, it wasn’t an option nor something they were quite sure they wanted, this was just something that felt right when the world around them was going to hell. They still always had each other. 

So as they kiss, Steve reaching blindly back to set his sketchpad out of the way on the arm of the chair (which it immediately falls from, hitting the floor with loose sheets sliding away), nothing else matters. They might not be in love (or maybe they are, they prefer not to think about it), but neither of them seem to be hitting it off with the ladies either, so what’s the harm? 

Bucky’s hand settles on Steve’s shoulder, gently tugging him closer, their lips moving slowly against each other. Little sighs and hums of pleasure fall from one mouth into the other, mingling into the kisses, the two unwilling to break them as Steve pulls his legs onto the couch to turn and face Bucky properly. His hands cup Bucky’s jaw and the stubble there prickles his fingers in the best way. 

To say that they’d never gone beyond this would also be a lie. Steve’s one hand soon follows Bucky’s chest down, settling on his thigh, just inches away, inadvertently teasing him. Bucky’s lips trail onto Steve’s neck, making a sigh escape his lips. 

It doesn’t take long before the two of them stand up, kisses fractured but still strung messily together, headed quickly for the bedroom, hardly able to pull apart for the trip there. Standing at the foot of their shared bed (tough times just after the depression and all), Bucky has to lean over a bit to kiss Steve properly at this height, but he doesn’t mind, especially not when Steve’s fingers work to unbutton his pants. 

Bucky has barely even stepped out of the pants pooled at his ankles by the time he pushes Steve back onto the bed, the mattress creaking with the sudden weight, and again when Bucky joins him, crawls over top of him. 

As their lips, their tongues meet once again, this time it’s Bucky whose hands busy themselves undoing Steve’s belt, then his pants. The smaller boy lifts his hips off the mattress when Bucky pulls back, tugs at the sides to pull the fabric down — though he stops with it partway down Steve’s thighs when he sees his underwear, patterned bright with the distinct design of the American flag. 

“What— are you serious?” Bucky has to laugh at this, and Steve lets out a small laugh of his own, mostly embarrassed. 

Yet he has to joke back. He has to tease Bucky right back or else he’ll never live this down. “You’re supposed to salute the flag, aren’t you? What kind of soldier are you going to be with no respect for the flag?” 

“Y’know what Rogers? You’re right.” Bucky leaves Steve with his pants half down as he moves back, edges backward off the bed to stand beside it, Steve looking up in fear of what Bucky’s about to do. 

There, standing in a proper military salute (though sans pants), Bucky looks down at Steve, a grin taking over his lips before he begins; 

_“Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…”_

“Buck oh my god—“ 

_“What so proudly we hailed…”_

“Bucky stop!” 

_“…at the twilight’s last gleaming…”_

Steve can only raise an arm, hide his face in the pit of his elbow, and whine, _“Stoooppp…”_

_“Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight…”_

“I swear I’m going to kill you.” 

Bucky’s grin widens even further as he continues; _“O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming…”_

“You’re a terrible singer,” Steve cuts in just before the high notes. He’s only half joking — Bucky isn’t _too_ bad when he tries, but this is by no means his shining moment. Which only makes things worse. 

_“And the rocket’s red glare! The bombs bursting in air! Gave proof through the night—“_

Steve gets himself up, kneeling on the bed as he lunges forward to grab Bucky by the arm, try to pull him back down onto the bed, get him to stop. 

_“That our— flag—_ Steve stop this is not very patriotic of you!! _—was still there…!”_ The last of his words are barely audible behind his laughter now, struggling against the much smaller Steve trying to pull him down. 

He soon realizes his efforts are futile, groans, and sits back on his heels, facing Bucky with a deadpan expression of someone who knows he still has two lines left in the song before this torture is over. 

_“Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet waaavvee…”_

“I’m actually going to kill you, Buck,” Steve says, though he’s forcing down a laugh by this point too, not unlike Bucky who can hardly keep any semblance of a straight face at this point. 

_“O’er the laanndd of the free…”_ Bucky pauses, just for a second, grinning directly at Steve, before continuing, _“and the home…”_ he takes a deep breath in, _“of the…”_ a small pause, _“braaaaaaavvvee…”_ Bucky makes sure to drag this out as long as possible, Steve lying back on the bed now, staring at the ceiling and letting out one of the longest sighs of his life. 

Only when Bucky runs out of air does he stop, take a deep breath in again, and practically collapses on the bed with laughter. With this and Steve busy yelling about how much he absolutely despises Bucky, how he’ll ‘get him back for this,’ any semblance of previous arousal is long lost for them both. 

But Bucky figures it was worth it.


End file.
